Take These Broken Wings
by glitterlagoon
Summary: Kurt Hummel attends Dalton Academy, where he is the shining star of the Warblers. Blaine Anderson is a new boy with a temper and a dark secret. AU. badboy!Blaine. Eventual Klaine. More information inside. I'm hopeless at summaries.
1. Chapter 1

**This is an idea that popped in to my head when I couldn't sleep in the early hours of this morning, as most brilliant ideas do. I've basically been fashioning half the plot and writing dialogue in my head all day, so it's a relief to actually be able to get it all down. This fic is set in England, simply because that's where I come from so it's just easier for me to write more fluently and not have to Google everything to do with the American schooling system. Basically, Kurt and Blaine are both sixteen years old, which in England puts them in their final year of high school. Also, this fic will feature mentions of child abuse in later chapters. Nothing explicit, but it's only right to warn you all. **

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><p>Kurt Hummel loved school. He knew he must be the only kid in the whole of England who was actually excited to return. Whilst most teenagers spent their six weeks lounging around in the rare glow of sun, allowing their summer days to slip by slowly and unproductively, Kurt was busy perfecting his talent for the year ahead. Kurt was a Warbler, the best thing you could be if you went to Dalton Academy. But not only was he a Warbler; Kurt was the unchristened leader of the pack. It had never been confirmed nor voiced by anyone, but the fact that Kurt was by far the best singer went without a shadow of a doubt.<p>

Kurt walked through the gates that first day of September and smiled. His newly purchased, freshly ironed navy blazer felt comforting against his skin, and as he caught sight of the building Kurt felt like he was coming home. He had been to a few schools before Dalton, schools where he had been subjected to horrific bullying everyday. There had been times when Kurt had feared for his life, and then his father had found Dalton. It was a private, all boys school, the best in the area. It cost a bomb to send his son there, but Burt Hummel would have cut off his own arm if it meant Kurt would be safe and happy.

"Kurt, Kurt!" a voice cried from the throng of schoolboys ambling through the yard. Kurt turned around.

James Pickering, fellow Warbler and one of Kurt's closest friends, was coming towards him. James was a tall, gangly boy who's pale skin bloomed with acne. His voice was his saving grace, managing to harmonise perfectly with anyone else's.

"Is it possible that you've _grown _two inches over the summer?" Kurt asked. "I mean, I can barely make out the colour of your eyes from down here."

"Shut up," James laughed. "Come on, everyone else is already in the common room."

The common room was unofficial territory for the Warblers. It was meant to be a place for the upper years to share, but anyone who wasn't part of the gang had been turfed out long ago. Following James through the sea of blue, Kurt entered the school and rounded the corner towards the common room. Like the rest of Dalton, it was homely yet extravagant in every way. Sat on one of the leather sofas and fumbling through his bag was Travis, another one of Kurt's friends. As soon as he saw Kurt enter he leaped up.

"Hummel!" he roared. "Get over here."

The customary ritual of back-to-school back slapping and banter began as the Warblers united in the middle of the room, Kurt crammed in to the center of them. "Guys, guys," Kurt shouted suddenly. The room hushed. "I think I've found one of our songs for sectionals, let me know what you guys think."

"What is it?" Finley, a bespectacled boy, asked eagerly.

"Oh, I think you'll know it," Kurt smiled.

He walked over to the towering music system in the corner, the trophy from the groups last victory. Kurt fished around in his pocket until he found the CD he was looking for, slipping it in to the player as the others circled around them. As the music began, and the smiles of recognition rippled through the crowd, Kurt began to tap his feet.

"Just shoot for the stars," Kurt began to croon. "If it feels right, then aim for my heart."

The Warblers tapped their feet and clicked their fingers around him, the sounds bouncing off the windows as they allowed the music to fill them up. Kurt walked around the circle, singing to each boy in turn:

"You say I'm a kid, my ego is big. I don't give a..."

The room ushered a collective, "Ssh" as Kurt shrugged. He pushed James in the middle of his chest.

"And it goes like this!" Kurt sang loudly in his face.

And together, in the eerie, brilliant the way that only the Warblers could pull off, Kurt, James, and Travis simultaneously raced across the room, as if it was what they had been planning to do all along. They jumped high in the air, legs stretched out, their feet crashing flat in to the back of one of the sofas so that it tipped downwards. The three of them neatly walked off it as if it were nothing more than a garden step.

"Take me by the tongue and I'll know you," they sang.

"Kiss me 'til I'm drunk and I'll show you!" the others chorused.

"You want the moves like Jagger, I've got the moves like Jagger, I've got the mo-oo-oo-oo-oves like Jagger!" Kurt, James, and and Travis finished as they danced together in a line, hips swirling and toes tapping and heads spinning.

Kurt carried on alone. "I don't even try to control-"

A loud cough made them all halt, Kurt almost toppling over as he bumped in to a frozen James. Somebody cut the music. The Warblers all turned to face the intrusion. Stood at the door, his navy blazer slung over his shoulders and his shirt sleeves rolled, was a boy none of them had ever seen before. He wasn't particularly tall, but he was built like a rugby player. His dark hair was gelled within an inch of its life, accentuating his strong chin and discreetly prominent cheek bones. However for Kurt all of this at first went unnoticed as he found himself captivated by the strangers eyes. They blazed brighter than a flame, hazel in colour but when the light hit they seemed to glow amber.

He was absoloutley gorgeous.

"Sorry to break up your little, uh, performance," the boy began. His voice was deep and carrying, tinged with the subtlest of Cockney accents. "Can anyone tell me where I can find my English classroom? Room 11."

The Warblers muttered amongst themselves, then Kurt stepped forward. He flashed the boy his most dazzling smile as he said, "Of course. Come on."

He walked over to the door, pausing as he considered grabbing the boys arm and leading him down the hall. Maybe it would be too much. Instead Kurt awkwardly dropped the hand he had previously raised, jerking his head as he gestured for the boy to follow him. "I'm Kurt Hummel, by the way," Kurt explained as they walked.

"Blaine Anderson," the other replied.

"Is this your first day?" Kurt enquired.

"Yeah," Blaine said. "I just moved here from Bethnal Green." He looked and sounded hopelessly bored, as if he wished he could be anywhere but walking the halls of Dalton with Kurt Hummel. This dismayed Kurt a little.

"You'll love it here, Dalton is a really good school," Kurt assured him. He felt slightly flustered. What could he say to make this beautiful boy think he was the least bit interesting? "Those boys I was with just now are the Warblers." He knew everything there was to know about the Warblers, he could entertain Blaine for hours with his tales if he needed to.

"The Warblers?" Blaine snorted.

Kurt threw him an irritated glance. "Yes," he snapped defensively. "We're an extremely popular and successful singing group. We've competed all over the country. In Wales too, once."

"Good to know," Blaine sighed.

"Can you sing?" Kurt asked, beginning to loose patience with this boy. "You can audition, if you like."

"Listen, uh, Kurt, was it?" Blaine tweaked his hair as they passed a mirror. "I'm not in to that pansy shit. I just want to keep my head down, get some good grades, and manage to leave high school without having to transfer again. And find my English classroom - in the next two minutes, preferably."

"Well good, because here we are," Kurt muttered. They paused outside of Miss Hepburn's classroom. Both boys stared at each other for a moment, unsure of how exactly to proceed.

"Are you coming in too?" Blaine asked eventually.

Kurt shook his head. "I have Mr Fields this year."

"Oh," Blaine said blankly. "Well, thanks I suppose. Maybe I'll see you around."

"Maybe," Kurt agreed.

They both turned, walking their separate ways. Kurt shook his head. God, that guy was arrogant. Pampered by mummy, no doubt. Kurt entertained himself for the next few seconds as he mercilessly insulted Blaine inside his head. Then finally Kurt sighed, as there was one thing he definitely couldn't deny: Blaine Anderson was really, really hot.

Dalton Acadamey granted its students a fifteen minute break after every one hour lesson. Kurt spent his first morning break of the year lounging around in the canteen with James and Travis. On the table in front of them towered what looked like half of the vending machine. As James and Travis chatted animatedly about a football game that had been played the previous night, their mouths wide open and revealing the churned remains of Mars bars and crisps, Kurt found his gaze drifting to the window.

It was then that he spotted Blaine walking alone across the yard. He paused when he reached one of the bike sheds, quickly scouting the area around him before ducking behind it. A few moments later a tell tale trail of thin blue smoke began to snake out from side of the shed. Kurt rolled his eyes.

"I'll see you both in Maths," he proposed.

"Where are you going?" Travis asked.

"Outside to enjoy the last moments of September sunshine," Kurt replied easily. "We're forecasted rain all next week."

"Of course we are," James sighed, then he resumed his conversation with Travis as Kurt slipped away.

He went outside in to the yard, creeping slowly towards the bike shed where Blaine stood. When Kurt arrived Blaine was facing the opposite direction. Kurt tapped him on the shoulder.

"The fuck?" Blaine spluttered, spinning around. He looked Kurt up and down. "Jesus. Don't ever do that to me again."

"Scared you?" Kurt teased.

"I just don't like people creeping up and touching me, okay?" Blaine snapped. He said it with such fierce conviction that Kurt looked down at his shoes. He wrinkled his nose. The place stunk of weed. Sure enough, when Kurt looked up he saw Blaine raising a spliff to his lips.

"What are you doing?" Kurt hissed, pushing down Blaine's arm. He frantically looked around. "You could get us both in serious trouble."

"Oh no," Blaine cried out in mock horror. "Relax. I smoke it for a purpose, okay? It helps me sleep at night."

"Funny, because it's ten o'clock in the morning," Kurt quipped.

Blaine rolled his hazel eyes. "Whatever. It's none of your business anyway."

The sudden crunch of footsteps made them both freeze. Blaine quickly blew out a gust of smoke, tossing his spliff over the fence. A snide remark sizzled on the tip of Kurt's tongue but he held it back as he saw his friend Lee come around the corner. The Warbler looked Kurt and Blaine over.

"What are you doing out here, with _him_?" Lee said to Kurt. Blaine coolly raised an eyebrow.

"Just talking," Kurt replied.

"Coming to class?" Lee asked, making a point to speak only at Kurt. However his gaze lingered on Blaine, who suddenly drew himself up.

"What gives you the right to look at me like that, you arrogant fuck?" Blaine snapped.

Lee laughed. "Who do you think you're talking to?"

"You look at me like that again and I'll floor you," Blaine warned.

"Oh yeah?" Lee snarled.

They squared up to each other. Kurt threw himself between them. "Come on, guys," he said helplessly. "Let's just forget it." His cries went ignored.

Kurt wasn't sure who threw the first punch, but suddenly he was flattened against the hard railings of the fence as Blaine and Lee growled at each other like beasts, grovelling around on the ground.

"Stop!" Kurt screamed.

"Boys!" another voice shrieked. Ms Sharpel, the headmistress, towered above them. Her long nostrils flared with anger. "Get inside, all three of you."

Blaine and Lee roughly pushed each other off. They stood up, Blaine dusting dirt off his trousers and Lee nursing a split lip. Kurt was unsurprised to see that Blaine had emerged with barely a bruise. The three of them followed Ms Sharpel to her office. All the way there Kurt's heart thumped and his stomach somersaulted. What was going to happen to his impeccable record now? If Blaine and Lee were going down for this, then there was no way he was getting dragged with them.

"Sit," Ms Sharpel demanded. There were only two chairs in front of her desk, which Kurt and Lee quickly took, leaving Blaine to brood by the window.

"Ms, can I go and get something for my lip?" Lee pleaded.

"In a minute," Ms Sharpel snapped. Then she proceeded to rant about the responsibilities of her students, the rules of her school, and everything else in between. Kurt nervously raised a hand.

"Ms Sharpel's, can I just say that I wasn't involved in the fight at all," he claimed.

Blaine laughed. "Yeah, that's right. Throw us to the sharks," he muttered.

"That's enough Mr Anderson," Ms Sharpel warned. Then she did a double take as she looked at Blaine. "Mr Anderson, am I right in believing you became a student at this school..." she glanced up at the clock. "Just over one hour ago?"

"Yes," Blaine said quietly, though there was a hint of smug pride in his voice.

"Unbelievable. Well, it's such a shame that I'm going to have to let you go," Ms Sharpel concluded.

Blaine's head snapped up. "What? You can't!" he cried.

"I think you'll find that I can," Ms Sharpel said tartly.

Kurt's mind clicked in to action. He didn't know why he was bothering, but he knew that he wanted Blaine to have a second chance. "Ms Sharpel, can I suggest something?" he asked. He was one of the schools best students, that had to earn him a voice didn't it?

Ms Sharpel sighed. "Yes, Kurt, you may."

Kurt swallowed. "Michael Hall left for America at the end of last year. He was one of our Warblers, if you remember. We need another person to join if we're going to compete this year," he turned to face Blaine. "I think Blaine should be given the option to audition if he wants to redeem himself. Surely it's better to express himself through performing instead of fighting?"

A small smile flashed across Ms Sharpel's lips. "Well Kurt, I can't knock you for your cunning."

Blaine looked between the two of them. He shook his head. "Oh no," he insisted. "No way."

Ms Sharpel raised an eyebrow. "I don't think you're in a position to argue, Mr Anderson," she said.

"What's the other option?" Blaine questioned in a tired voice.

"Permanent exclusion," Ms Sharpel replied simply.

Blaine looked at Kurt again. "Fine," he muttered.

Kurt exploded with happiness.

"But it'll have to be tomorrow," Blaine added. "I'll need to fetch my guitar."

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><p><strong>What do you all think? So many people favourite and place alerts these days, but hardly anyone bothers with reviews. They mean a lot to me so I'd love you forever if you left me one! Bear in mind that certain things may be a little off character, after all this is badboy!Blaine, but hopefully my directing gave you a clear image of the music scene in your head. If not, let me know! <strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Remember Michael Hall, the boy Kurt spoke about moving to America? His name is now Jack, only because he's going to end up playing a bigger part in the story than I first anticipated, and I realised that I didn't like the name. This will come in to the story a little later though.**

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><p>The next day Kurt, the Warblers, and Ms Sharpel gathered together in the common room during the first morning break. Kurt was on edge, tingling all over with nerves and excitement. He hadn't seen Blaine at all yet that morning, and was starting to wonder if he would even turn up. He was desperate for things to go well for Blaine, and a small foolish part of him privately hoped that if he joined the Warblers they could spend more time with each other. If Blaine was as good as Kurt hoped he would be, they could both lead the group together. Kurt lost himself in visions of the two of them on stage, singing and dancing and-<p>

"Kurt," James nudged him.

"Wh- Yeah?" Kurt muttered.

"Blaine is here," James announced quietly.

Blaine was indeed walking in to the room, his shirt sleeves yet again rolled but this time instead of his blazer a battered guitar case was slung across his back. Lee, who was sporting a black eye that bloomed purple against his skin, sneered.

"I'd watch your backs if I were you, boys," he said. "You never know when this little psycho might turn on you."

If Blaine had heard Lee's comment he didn't show it.

Kurt scowled at Lee then immediately got up from the sofa to greet Blaine. "You came," he beamed.

"Well I didn't want to get excluded," Blaine reasoned dryly.

"Mr Anderson," Ms Sharpel cut in, clapping her hands together. "May we start? I have a meeting in a few minutes."

"Good luck," Kurt said quietly. He returned to the sofa whilst Blaine fumbled with his guitar. It was an old one, chipped and patched with tape. Blaine hugged it to his chest like it was his first born son.

"I'm going to sing Heaven by Emeli Sande," Blaine announced.

"I think we have that on CD, somewhere…" Travis made to get up.

"No," Blaine said firmly. "I don't want a CD; I have my guitar."

Lee rolled his eyes. "He's lucky to even be having this chance…"

"Lee, shut up," Kurt snapped, smiling at the boy in a dangerous fashion. And maybe Kurt was imagining it, but Blaine's eyes suddenly caught his and they were soft and thankful for a moment, but then a light inside them flickered and Blaine began to fiddle with the strings of his guitar.

He began to play, his fingers flowing fluidly across the strings. It all seemed so effortless, as if Blaine had been playing guitar before he could even write or use a knife and fork. Then he opened his mouth, and the world promptly imploded.

"Will you recognise me, in the flashing lights? I try to keep my heart clean but I can't get it right."

Blaine's voice was better than Kurt had anticipated it to be. It was soft yet still powerful, the words fragmented as they escaped his lips, catching in Blaine's throat in all of the right places. For the first time Kurt realised that he had competition. He panicked. What if Blaine replaced him? What if he was cast aside, reduced to a backing singer like the others? No, he wouldn't let it happen. Being a Warbler was all Kurt had, it was the only thing about himself that made him feel powerful and important. But that voice…

Blaine now had his eyes closed, his whole form scrunched up as he strummed, his fingers blurred. Kurt could only stare, feeling his neck flood with heat. He wanted Blaine. He wanted him so badly. Kurt knew that if anyone was to look his way at that moment then they'd know, they'd know exactly what was running through his mind. Not wanting to make things awkward for Blaine if that happened, Kurt quickly composed himself.

"You're not gonna like me," Blaine yelled, throwing his head back so that his teeth gleamed in the light. "I'm nothing like before."

Kurt heard Ms Shaprel's sharp intake of breath.

"On heaven, on heaven, I wake with good intentions," Blaine crooned, his voice growing soft again, his eyes slowly flourishing open. "But the day it always lasts too long, then I'm gone… gone… gone…" He finished the song with a quick flicker of his fingers, the final chords flying from the guitar strings and ringing around the room. Then he nervously waited.

"Boys," Ms Sharpel said finally. "I'm no talent scout, but I think it's safe to say we've found ourselves a new Warbler."

The room errupted in to applause, and even Lee didn't look so hostile towards Blaine as everyone got up to gather around the newest edition. All except Kurt, who remained on the sofa. He waited until everyone had filtered from the room and it was just Blaine, packing away his guitar and acting like he didn't know Kurt was still there.

"That was amazing," Kurt said finally. He wished afterwards that he could have mustered up a better word, but what word in the English language was good enough to sum up what he had just witnessed?

"Thank you," Blaine said politely.

"You're going to love being a Warbler," Kurt added.

Blaine laughed. "Don't tell me what I am and am not going to love," he said, startling Kurt a little. "I'm here because I have to be, okay? I didn't want to come to this poncy school in the first place, or audition to sing with a bunch of jumped up, upper class school boys who think they're just that little bit better than me just because their parents can afford to send them here and I got in because it was the only place left to go."

"I don't think that at all," Kurt said quietly. "I'm sorry if you aren't having the best time here, Blaine, but I think if you weren't so defensive about everything-"

"Maybe there's a reason I'm so defensive," Blaine snapped. "Maybe I have to be. You don't know anything about me, Kurt."

"You don't know anything about me either!" Kurt retorted. It was a weak response, he knew, but Kurt wasn't going to let Blaine win.

"I think I have you pretty much summed up," Blaine disagreed, slinging his guitar over his shoulder before continuing. He stepped closer. "You had a shit life before you came here, then you walked in to this room, opened that mouth of yours and reduced these assholes in to silence. You love it here because it's the only place in the world more adoring than home - where your dad's proud of you and your mother pampers you and-"

"She's dead, actually," Kurt cut in quietly.

That shut Blaine up. There was that look in his eyes again, lasting only for a split second before he said, "Oh. Shit. Kurt, I'm really sorry-"

"Yeah, you have me pretty much worked out," Kurt agreed, getting up. "But not everything. There's a lot you don't know about me either, Blaine, but at least I didn't throw assumptions at you the minute I felt threatened."

"Threatened?" Blaine laughed. "Jesus, you insolent-"

"Goodbye, Blaine," Kurt said shortly. "Again, I really hope you enjoy your time here - though things are only work out for you if you allow them to."

He walked from the room, leaving Blaine speechless in his wake.

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><p><strong>Ooh, tense. Thank you all so much for putting this on alert, and to andrew2012 for leaving a review. I hope this chapter sufficed, even if it was a little short! However I feel that maybe Kurt gushes about Blaine a little too much, and I don't want to go all Twilight on you all. Let me know what you think! <strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**I am _so _sorry it's taken me this long to update. I've edited this chapter more times than I could count, and even now I'm not completely happy with it. Anyway, as always read and let me know what you think! Kurt and Blaine show considerable signs of promise in this chapter, because I'm impatient and not in to all of that procrastinating shit, even in my own fics.**

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><p>When Kurt woke up the next morning it was to the muffled sound of rain pattering outside. Having a basement bedroom meant that everything was dulled slightly. It wasn't a complete surprise; Kurt had known that the unusually hot summer would have to end sometime. He dragged himself out of bed and in to his adjoining bathroom.<p>

Kurt glanced in the mirror, taking in his red rimmed eyes and shiny, tear stained cheeks. He heaved a sigh. Still, a night of sorrow was nothing a jar of Clarins moisturiser couldn't disguise. He had cried himself to sleep lost in memories of his mother, Blaine having ripped open old wounds. He had been four years old when she had died so most people assumed that Kurt didn't remember her, but he did, and all too vividly. However he was happy to pretend otherwise because it meant that people wouldn't try to talk about her with him.

After spending a considerably longer amount of time on his skin care routine Kurt left for school. He trod through the rain soaked streets, dodging the fat drops of rain that plopped down from leaking drain pipes and skipping over the glassy puddles that stained the pavements. By the time he arrived at Dalton Kurt was drenched to the bone, his pants glued to him like a second skin. With minutes to go before his first lesson he decided to take a trip to the bathroom with intentions of sticking his head beneath the hand dryer.

The bathroom was empty when he entered. Kurt walked over to one of the dryers, slamming his hand beneath it and shoving his head in to the gust of warm air that followed. He rolled his head around, breaking the rhythm every now and then to shake like a wet dog. The roar of the dryer caused Kurt to fall temporarily deaf, and so he didn't hear the bathroom door creak open. However he did catch sight of the scuffed black boots - most definitely not regulation - stomping towards him. Kurt tossed his head up, blinking as lights popped in front of his eyes.

Blaine was stood in front of him, one of his strangely triangular shaped eyebrows cocked in an incredulous manor. _Great_, though Kurt, _now he probably thinks I'm a total lunatic._

"I was drying my hair," Kurt blurted defensively.

Blaine continued to stare as if expecting Kurt to start barking. "Whatever," he finally shrugged.

Kurt picked up his satchel from the floor, tossing his newly dried hair and trying to cling to any remaining dignity he had left. "There's a Warbler meeting at twelve, during lunch. It'll last about half an hour at the most so you'll still get time to eat," he announced.

"I'll be there," Blaine promised.

The two of them awkwardly stood watching one another. Kurt was disappointed to find that Blaine was bone dry. He tried to push away the image of a dripping wet Blaine from his mind, who - for some unfathomable reason - was emerging shirtless from a lake. Kurt must have drifted further in to his day dream then he realised, because when he came back down to Earth Blaine was giving him that look again.

"Good," Kurt said quickly, though probably too late for it to be read as an answer to Blaine's previous words.

"Good," Blaine agreed. "Now do you want to scram so that I can go for a piss, or were you planning on hovering to watch?"

Kurt blushed. "As tempting as that sounds... I'll see you at twelve," he muttered, dashing from the bathroom before Blaine could accuse him anymore of being a pervert.

He didn't see Blaine at all for the rest of the day. At the beginning of lunch Kurt left his French lesson and headed down to the common room. Some of the Warblers were already there, and Kurt began to pace the room as he anticipated Blaine's arrival. However at ten past there was still no sign. The others began to realise it, too.

"You see?" Lee tutted. "He isn't even going to take this seriously."

"Maybe he's just got lost," Kurt suggested feebly.

"More like he just doesn't care," Lee scoffed.

Much to Kurt's dismay, there was a small murmur of agreement throughout the room.

"But I thought you were all starting to like him?" Kurt said, trying to keep his voice from escalating. Despite everything he still nursed a soft spot for Blaine. He wasn't sure why, but Kurt didn't want to give up on him.

"Well yeah, he's a good singer," James admitted.

"The guys still a total prick, though," Lee cut in.

"Kurt," Travis said. "I know you want to wait, but we've already wasted ten minutes. If we don't make the most of every meeting we have then there's no way we'll win anything this year."

Kurt sighed. "Fine."

He spent most of the time distractedly watching the door, and when he entered the cafeteria twenty minutes later Kurt raked his eyes through the crowds with an irritated stare. Finally he spotted a head full of black curls by the fire exit. Blaine was sat alone with nothing on his tray but a single can of coke, which went ignored as Blaine busily tapped away at his phone.

"I'll be right back," Kurt said to James before striding over.

Blaine looked up as Kurt's shadow fell over him.

"I don't want to sit with you," he said rather abruptly. "Your friends are dicks."

"I wasn't going to offer, actually," Kurt replied.

"What did you want, then?" Blaine demanded to know.

Kurt folded his arms in an attempt to appear more authoritative. "Where the hell have you been? We waited for ten minutes."

"What?" Blaine sighed.

"The meeting. I _told _you," Kurt explained in exasperation.

"Oh," Blaine said with a simple shrug. "I forgot."

"You _forgot_?" Kurt cried, now well and truly annoyed.

"Listen, Kurt," Blaine began. "I only joined your little group so that Sharpel wouldn't kick me out. You knew that - I think. The thing is, I _did_ remember about the meeting, but I couldn't give two shits about anything said in it, or any meeting in the future for that matter."

"It'd be pretty selfish of you to ruin this for us," Kurt said hotly.

"And what have _you _done for me to make you so deserving of my dedication?" Blaine enquired.

"I've been nice to you," Kurt reminded him.

"Plenty of people have been nice to me, Kurt," Blaine reasoned. "The receptionist was _nice _to me when she gave me the keys to my locker. The lunch lady was _nice _to me when she gave me this coke." Blaine swiftly took a sip from his can.

Kurt watched as his Adams apple bobbed enticingly, and quickly blinked. He was suddenly aware of people by his side. Whoever it was had made Blaine roll his eyes.

"What's going on over here?" A voice demanded. Lee.

Blaine sighed. "Oh good, it's the Gay Brigade come to rescue their Queen. Didn't yesterday teach you and that ego of yours anything, knob jockey?"

"Who are you texting anyway, your mother?" Lee snapped.

Karl, who was stood directly behind Blaine, gazed down at the other boys phone with glee. "He actually is!" he announced.

"Oh my God," Lee laughed.

Blaine clicked his jaw. "I'm going," he declared. "Before I rip that spine of yours right out through your mouth and wrap it around your throat. Consider yourself lucky, princess." He barged past Lee and disappeared in to the milling crowd.

Kurt rounded on Lee. "I was just asking him where he was earlier. Jesus, Lee, can't you just drop a grudge?"

He went after Blaine, knowing exactly where he'd find him. Sure enough, when Kurt went behind the bike shed there was Blaine, encircled in a haze of blue smoke and breathing deeply. He stared at Kurt.

"I do wish you'd stop chasing after me," he muttered.

Kurt hugged his sides and looked away.

"God I hate this place," Blaine snapped. He punched the fence beside him so that the railings rattled. Then he continued, his voice angry, "So, did you come to pass on some more words of wisdom? Or to take the piss? Because yeah, I was texting my mother just now, and maybe it is pretty sad-"

"It's not sad," Kurt interrupted, brave as he dared. "I'd text my mother every day if I could."

"Right," was all Blaine said. Then he shook his head, sliding down the railings so that he was sat on the ground. He turned his face upwards so that his olive skin glowed in the sun and his jaw line grew only more pronounced. Kurt joined him.

"She worries about me," Blaine admitted suddenly. "Something… something happened to me when I was a kid, and it's made her protective. Too protective, sometimes." He began to rub the back of his neck.

Kurt didn't ask, but he wanted to know. Of course he wanted to know - and not just that, he wanted to know _everything_: all of Blaine's dreams and his fears and his quirks. The small stuff like his favourite movie and how many sugars he took in his tea and what colour his eyes were in the morning. Kurt wanted to know it all but he knew now was not the moment. He only hoped that such a moment would present itself in the future.

"God, why am I even trusting you with this shit?" Blaine wondered out loud.

"Because you can," Kurt pressed. "Like I said before Blaine, I've been nice to you. It's all I've ever been. And it's not just so the Warblers do well this year - not because I'm after anything at all - it's just because I know what it's like to be alone. And I'm not comparing what I felt to what you feel now, because I don't know you, but I'm your friend if- if you want me to be."

There was an agonising pause in which Kurt could feel his neck prickling with heat. Where had that spiel even come from? Where were these _feelings _coming from?

"Thanks," Blaine replied finally. "Maybe. I don't really do friends. People like to palm you off with their bullshit. Everyone you meet leaves their mark one way or another. I'd rather just screw myself up, you know? At least that way I don't have to spend years wondering how I became such a fuck up; I'll already know exactly how it happened."

He blew out an angry gust of smoke.

Kurt smiled. "That makes sense. Maybe we aren't so different, you know."

Blaine made a noise that implied he disagreed entirely.

"Want some?" he offered. He was passing Kurt his cigarette.

Kurt shook his head. "They're too damaging to my voice. You'll probably find you can carry a note for longer if you quit."

Blaine made the noise again. Then, "Kurt?" he said.

Kurt's stomach was immediately flooded with butterflies. Did his name sound so lovely all of the time, or was it just when Blaine said it? Kurt smiled. "Yes?"

"This is a bit personal, and you don't have to answer me, it's just something I've been wondering…" Blaine turned to face away, rubbing his neck again. "Are you… are you gay?"

Kurt wondered why it even mattered, but he replied anyway. "Yes," he said. "And it's not exactly a secret, not anymore, so you don't need to feel shy about asking."

"Ah," Blaine nodded, the discomfort melting away.

"Just so you know, it doesn't change anything," Kurt added. "I'm not planning to jump your bones any time soon." Not a complete lie.

A glimmer of a smile crossed Blaine's face. "Of course it doesn't change anything. I'm not one of those assholes who treat people like their diseased just because they're a little different - and I know what I said just now to Lee in the canteen. It was a pretty cheap remark. Sorry if I offended you."

Kurt tried not to look so surprised at hearing an apology. He recovered by shrugging and saying, ""I've had worse."

"Have you always been at Dalton?" Blaine asked.

"No," Kurt replied. He paused. "I got bullied out of my last school."

It made him feel uncomfortable to admit it, almost embarrassed. He didn't want Blaine to see him as somebody weak, but Kurt knew that the only way he'd get Blaine on his side was if he opened up. Kurt tugged at the weeds poking through the railings as Blaine puffed away at his cigarette.

"Listen," Kurt began. "I've got an idea. What are you doing on Saturday?"

Blaine snorted. "Are you asking me out on a date, Hummel?"

"What are you doing?" Kurt repeated.

"Nothing. Why?" Blaine questioned.

"Good. I'll meet you at Withering Woods, one o'clock," Kurt announced.

Blaine shot him a look. "What?"

"You'll see," Kurt said.

"You think I'm going to go wandering in to the woods with somebody I've only just met?" Blaine scoffed.

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "I saw what you did to Lee. I'm pretty sure you could defend yourself if I had any tricks up my sleeve."

Blaine smirked. "You'd be a piece of cake compared to that scrawny shit."

"Exactly," Kurt reasoned. "So, one o'clock?"

Blaine sighed. "I have no idea why I'm even agreeing to this, but fine."

Kurt's face brightened in to a smile. "Good. And don't _forget_ this time."


End file.
